


Hope

by repwarrior



Series: We're Partners [3]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Confessions, Diary/Journal, F/M, Game: Resident Evil 5, I Love You, Isolation, Late Night Conversations, Love Confessions, Post-Resident Evil 5, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Quote: "When are we gonna do something about this unspoken thing between us?" "What unspoken thing?", Very Secret Diary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26043946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/repwarrior/pseuds/repwarrior
Summary: After years of being presumed dead, Jill Valentine is now finally reunited with her partner, Chris Redfield. One night she stumbles upon his diary, which gives her a heartbreaking insight into how he coped with her disappearance.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Jill Valentine
Series: We're Partners [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886218
Kudos: 17





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! I recommend reading the first two parts of this series if you haven't, 'Come Undone' and 'Wisteria', to get the full picture as the events depicted there are referenced. Thank you and enjoy! :D

The ceiling fan pirouetted, oferring a pleasant brush that lessened the clement in the room. Twisting in bed a woman glared at it profoundly, struggling to take her mind off of something. To the side, window panes oscillated in the breeze. She gazed through. In the skies, evident despite the highrises that augured to drown them, stars had aligned into an effervescent sea. One single glimpse of relief, but it was not enough. Clear unrest could be deciphered in the woman’s look as she quickly swivelled to her left. A liberating exhale. There, unearthed from the rumpled sheets, was a man. He was turned to her, his eyes closed tight, seemingly absorbed in the anchor of slumber.

His chest pulsated as she watched him breathe in and out with faint sighs. Drawing her arm, she gently grazed over his pectoral muscles. She remained still when ardent heartbeats made contact with the skin of her palm. Not breaking the touch, she drifted to his face. The hazy thrill she always received from dwindling his beard engulfed her. An almost invisible smile formed on her nude lips. The next aspect of him that earned her attention was his signature buzzcut. Trying not to disturb, her fingers swayed through his chestnut tinted hair for mere seconds. Before fleeing the bed she lightly squeezed his thumb with her own, softness deluging their connection. As she did that a feeble shift in his posture made her retract.

‘Jill...,’ his drowsy whisper felt like a kiss.

‘I’ll be back in a bit,’ she answered.

Jill withdrew from the chamber with tiny footsteps and walked toward the kitchen area. She activated a wall lamp, its dim glow smoldering amidst the darkness. Acquiring a cup of water she redirected herself to the nearby couch. Seated there in the hush, she noticed a box by the television stand. It was unopened. The sight of scattered things around his place was not bizzare in the slightest – she had gotten used to it upon visiting the other few hideouts that he had to rent in the past.

Unable to go back to sleep, she thought it would be productive to aid with the clean up. Crouching, she unfolded the package, exposing a small collection of books and DVDs. Scouring through so that she could sort them in alphabetical order, a DVD case in particular managed to catch her focus. Wondrous zeal fullfilled her soul as she realized what it was. That film was distinctly engrained in her memory – a copy of the romantic comedy she had brought over when she stopped by his flat to check on him, during that one cruel summer. She set it aside and started looking over the novels. Most of them were brooding thrillers. She knew how much he prized those. Then, curiosity arose when she came across a notebook without an enscription on its green cover.

Biting her lip in anticipation, she squinted. Dust particles levitated in the light as she began to fully unclothe the mysterious object. Skimming through, the dates written for each paragraph revealed the truth. That was his diary, and it had been first utilized more than five years ago. Specifically, one date marked in 2006 froze her on the spot: the final night before their fateful mission together. Chills rushed down her back as soon as she processed the words stamped on those bygone pages.

_‘‘This night was eventful to say the least. Our getaway at the lake was exactly what I needed. Jill has always struck me as considerate, but tonight really felt special. She’s usually secretive even with me, so bringing me there must mean something. I didn’t get to tell her there, but she means so much to me. Maybe more than I could ever say out loud. There are only a few people who give me a purpose, and she’s always been one of them._

_Now I that I think of it, I can’t believe it’s been ten years since we met for the first time. I still remember our first day on the STARS team. She was there showing off her lockpicking skill. Barry even called her ‘the master of unlocking’. I’m just rambling to myself at this point. But I’m so thankful for her. For her courage. For her compassion. For just always being here. I sometimes wonder if I’m not doing enough to show her my appreciation. But I have a plan. After the mission tomorrow, I’ll have to talk with her. Tell her how I feel.’’_

Dumbfounded, Jill briefly took a moment to wipe off the tears that gushed uncontrollably as she reached the end of the paragraph. With hitched gasps she skipped to the next file, having one objective. She had to identify the first date on there after she went missing. Her core stung when she encountered what she wanted. The notebook trembled in her fragile hands. Her muffled cries echoed airily in the tranquility. It was only her, the nightfall, and his sorrowful confessions that were never spoken.

_‘‘It’s been a while since I’ve written something on this. I’ve barely talked to anyone in days. Claire is worried but I tell her I’m fine every time. I sound like a broken record. Now all I do is sit in my room with the curtains closed. I just can’t stand the light anymore. I could barely sleep as is but now I feel worn out. Whenever I go out I tend to avoid public places as much as possible. I see her face in every crowd. Then there’s the fucking reporters everywhere. I despise them. And the nightmares. They just won’t stop. I see her falling. I try to stop it. She falls. Over and over and over again. We were supposed to protect each other and she did. I failed her. I’m so sor’’_

The rest was ripped off. A sense of sheer panic menaced to consume her as she advanced through the documents. Another entry, scribbled months after the incident, only said the following:

_‘‘I don’t know if I can keep going on like this.’’_

Upon further inspection Jill could see tangible, wrinkled spots on the page.

‘His tears…,’ she recognized, defeated.

‘Jill?’ the man’s voice erupted lightly from behind.

She quickly glanced up at him, shaking her head to hide away her own cries.

‘Chris,’ she muttered in shame with a pause, ‘I’m really sorry I shouldn’t have-’

‘It’s okay,’ he interrupted, ‘These are things I never had the courage to tell you. I’m… actually relieved you finally know. I trust you.’

A short-lived halt.

‘As you can see, I’m not the american hero right out of the movies they want me to be,’ he mustered.

Immediately getting up, Jill ran to cling onto him, his comforting arms cradling her waist. She nuzzled into his neck. The fact that his height soared over her somehow placed everything into stark contrast with what she had just learned from those pages. Everyone looked up to him as an unstoppable superhuman seen in all the famous comic books, who never displayed not even a flash of fear. The person who would not be disrupted by absolutely nobody in their conquest to save millions of lives. However, she knew the other side of him as well. The person who would beat themself up over the most meager mistakes. The one who would demand to take the blame even when not the case. The one who could break, and who was not afraid to do so.

‘It was just... so hard. Going on missions without you. Waking up without you next to me… Mourning a grave without a body,’ his respiration hooked after the last sentence as his weary eyes drenched his face in teardrops.

Another lull immersed the room entirely.

‘Fuck what they say,’ Jill suddenly murmured, softly burying her face deeper into his neck, having found the sentiment of safety only he could confer, ‘Chris, you went through hell and back to save me, knowing I was supposed to be dead for the past three years. And never, ever forget, it’s okay to break. But always remember, you’re so, so incredibly strong. Figuratively... and physically,’ she flirted jokingly making both of them chuckle, ‘You are my hero.’

Both exhaled at that line. Peace. She had been waiting to tell him that. He had been waiting to hear that from her.

‘I love you Jill,’ he replied with a gulp.

They both felt ready to say it.

‘I love you too Chris,’ his name rolled off her tongue like a sweet cherry.

Savoring each other’s glistening stare, Chris sketched a smirk.

‘Hey. I have an idea. How about we continue… our dance? You know, from where we left off,’ he shyly proposed.

‘I would be very delighted,’ she responded with excitement building up inside her.

At her approval, without wasting any more time, Chris rapidly turned on the bluetooth speakers installed in the living area, a multicolored LED palette blitzing as he did, alike to a thronged club during the weekends.

Marvellous shades of red, pleasant yellow, lightened azure, and vital green combined to bring that room to life, radiating vividly on the pale walls and ceiling. Chris’s next move was to lay bare an unopened bottle of champagne. Pouring the sizzling liquid into a pair of glasses he let the bubbles fritter away, then switched back to the longing embrace of his partner. As he pressed on the remote to allow music to play, Jill cupped his rosy cheeks. She trapped him in an obliterating smooch. They simply stood like that for what appeared to morph into a shimmering eternity, one in which there was no evil lurking beyond the ghastly shadows. The wistful, slowed down instrumental of the song mystified them. Through the window, in a hallucination of sorts, the constellations that bulwarked over the neighborhood nearly resembled their tempo – the star trails motioned as if wavering along with the two.

Twirling at a mellow pace, their bodies almost fused at that point, they could perceive each other’s corporal warmth. Him towering over her was like a glimmer of protection. Chris analyzed her bright blonde hair, which fell over her shoulders. In an instant, her cerulean eyes became locked onto his. It felt powerful, like their nethermost thoughts had passed through each other’s. Uncertainty ruled among them, perhaps. Indeed, the threat posed by the outside world would probably never cease.

But they were there, reunited, drinking in each other’s passion, in spite of the obstacles. And it was enough. Because there was one component that kept them together.

Jill lifted her full glass, gesturing Chris to take his.

‘Here’s for the hope of it all,’ she toasted, their glasses tenderly clinking on impact.

Chris smiled, being enamoured by her presence.

‘For the hope of it all.’


End file.
